Afraid
by stilinskiboner
Summary: It doesn't take long for Lydia, Stiles, and Scott to realize the only way they'll make it through their friend's death is if they stick together. Oneshot set directly after Allison's death.


d

None of them had moved in what felt like years. Scott sat in the back of the room with his head in his hands, unwilling to accept that she was actually gone. _Gone._ The word itself left a nasty taste in his mouth. How could someone as innocent and pure as Allison be dead? She had been helping them; she was supposed to be here with them, not lying in a casket under the ground. She was never supposed to die; the nogitsune was supposed to die, not her. Scott had known the risks, however, when he had vowed to save Stiles one way or another. He knew that there was a possibility of a death, but he had never actually imagined it happening. It shouldn't have happened.

As if Allison's death wasn't enough, there was Aiden too. Two people had died because of Scott's carelessness. Maybe if he had just made a better plan to protect everyone, they would both still be here. He would never stop feeling guilt over what had happened; this was his entire fault. He couldn't even imagine how Stiles must feel. At the thought of his torn best friend, Scott managed to lift his head up and catch a glimpse of him.

Stiles stood in the corner, his arms wrapped around his torso, occasionally wiping at his wet eyes. He still had trouble comprehending the fact that people had died because of him; people who had been trying to save him. What had Beacon Hills become the last year? When Stiles had lost his mother, he had thought nothing could be worse than that horrible feeling. He had died holding her hand; there couldn't possibly be anything worse than that. He was wrong, though. The feeling of guilt was much, much worse. He would carry this guilt with him for the rest of his life and he knew it would never go away. He had caused two people's deaths. Allison. Oh god, Allison. She should never have been the one to die. She was dead because of him. Even Aiden, who could be an arrogant dick most of the time, had proved himself to be one of the good guys by fighting for Stiles as well. All he had wanted was to be one of the good guys and now he was gone. Both of them, just gone. He rubbed his hand across his face, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill. He noticed Scott's eyes on him and subtly looked away, instead focusing on the girl sitting on the couch, staring absentmindedly at the TV. The girl he had fallen hopelessly in love with, just sitting there, not moving a muscle, not even crying, just staring. Lydia was broken and he knew it.

Stiles pushed himself off the wall and took a seat next to her. She turned her head towards him, acknowledging his presence before turning away. Her expression remained blank, not giving Stiles any hint to what she was thinking. He slowly stood up and maneuvered around the pieces of furniture Scott had broken during one of his meltdowns, and made his way to his best friend.

Scott looked up at Stiles before nodding his head and making his way up the stairs.

"We'll just be upstairs, Lydia." Stiles told her, watching her carefully for a response that he knew would never come. He slowly followed Scott up the stairs, suddenly realizing this would be the first time he and Scott had talked in days. He ran his fingers along the side of the wall as he moved through the hall he knew as well as his own. It wasn't until they reached Scott's room that they realized they had no idea what to even say. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before Stiles cleared his throat.

"I'm so sorry," He said, his voice already threatening to crack. Scott whipped his head up to look at him in surprise before Stiles continued. "You shouldn't have had to save me. They died for me. Allison died for me, Scott. Aiden died for me. They all wanted to save me and this is my fault," He finished, wiping at his face.

Scott immediately shook his head. "In no way is this your fault. We all knew the risks and we were willing to take them to save you."

Stiles snorted and ran a hand across his face. "I find it extremely unlikely that _Aiden_ died for my benefit."

"Even so, he's still dead," Scott reminded him. "They both are."

Scott stopped talking, unable to find the energy to continue. He wasn't sure what to say at this point, not knowing what would set his best friend off.

Stiles nodded his head. "Yeah, you're right. They're dead. Dead, Scott. They're never coming back and you know whose fault that is? Mine."

He took a deep breath and calmed his emotions before making a move to leave the room. Scott was faster, though, and stood in front of the entrance, blocking Stiles's only exit.

"Come on, man. Move," Stiles pleaded, pushing against Scott's chest.

Scott crossed his arms and refused to move. "I should've kept them safe. I should've made sure that there weren't any kinks to the plan. If it's your fault, then it's definitely mine too."

Stiles shook his head and turned around, unwilling to meet his best friend's eyes. How could Scott even stand to look at him right now? This was his entire fault; everything was his fault, and- Oh God.

Stiles tried to suck in a breath but the air wouldn't come. He realized at the same time as Scott did that he was having a panic attack. He fell onto the floor, his back pressed against Scott's bed and looked at Scott in sheer fear. This wasn't a rare occurrence for Stiles; he'd always had panic attacks. None of them had ever been this extreme, however. Scott sat beside his best friend and grabbed his shoulders.

"Stiles, listen to me. You're here with me. You're okay, you're here."

Scott waited for the sign that Stiles was breathing properly again, for this was what usually got his panic attacks to stop, but it wasn't working. It seemed as if it only made it worse and Scott fell back, feeling helpless.

"I'll be right back. Keep breathing," He called out as he raced down the stairs. He wasted no time in grabbing Lydia's arm and hauling her off the couch.

"Stiles is having a panic attack," He hastily explained, dragging her up the stairs by her hand. By the time they had made it to his room, Stiles was nearly unconscious, his head rolling around as he tried to catch a breath. For the first time in days, Lydia let herself block out all the numbness Allison and Aiden's death had brought and knelt down in front of Stiles. She didn't say anything, didn't even glance over at Scott, before she kissed him, hard. She pulled back after a few seconds and Stiles looked at her in wonder. This had been the second time she'd stopped one of his panic attacks and just like the first time, he couldn't understand how effortlessly she had been able to do it. Was a kiss from her really all it took to stop it? Was he really that in love with her?

Her face didn't betray any emotion as she sat on the floor and moved towards him, Scott following suit. Stiles sat in between the two people who had quickly become his best friends and let out a hysterical laugh.

"Leave it to me to have a goddamn panic attack and need saving while you two are trying to grieve."

Scott looked over at his best friend in surprise. He didn't get a chance to respond, though, for Lydia had beaten him to it. "Why do you always blame yourself?"

Stiles whipped his head around to look at her, and he shrugged. "Because it's usually my fault."

"Allison and Aiden dying is _not _your fault. I should have been able to feel it, I should have known…" She trailed off, unable to continue without tearing up.

"I should have had a better plan," Scott added, looking down at his feet.

"I'm the one they were trying to save. I'm always the one needing saving," Stiles concluded, pulling his legs up to his chest. Both Scott and Lydia looked over at Stiles, their hearts breaking for him. He really thought this was his entire fault.

"Stiles," Lydia started and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "I don't think any of us could've stopped it." She looked over at Scott and gave him a pointed look to make sure he understood she was directing this at him as well.

Stiles placed one of his hands on top of hers and simply looked at her. "I don't want to feel like this anymore."

She nodded her head and allowed a tear to drip down her face as she wrapped an arm around Stiles. She glanced over at Scott before reaching over and intertwining her free hand with his. It was at that moment that the three teens realized the only way they could move past this was if they stuck together. They would be a team.

_**A/N: Hiya. This was just a oneshot I wrote quite a while ago, directly after Allison's death. Leave a review, maybe? (:**_


End file.
